


A View from Bunker Hill

by karrenia_rune



Category: Andromeda
Genre: Gen, Promptfic, Small Fandom Fest Round 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seamus gets a surprise vid-call from his cousin, Brendan, and this time no lives are on the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A View from Bunker Hill

Title: A View from Bunker Hill  
Fandom: Andromeda, general series  
Author: karrenia  
Characters: Brendan, Seamus Harper, Isaac  
Season 2 Episode Tag  
Words: 1,146  
Rating: General Audiences  
Prompt: "This land was always ours, the proud land of our fathers. It belongs to us, to them, not the others."

Disclaimer: Andromeda belongs to Tribune Entertainment and Fireworks Productions as do all of  
the characters who appear here or are mentioned; they are not mine.

 

“The View from Bunker Hill” by karrenia

The area is renowned for its historical significance dating back to the very first muster of ordinary citizens become soldiers in a time of desperate compact against forces that had them outnumbered, outgunned and outmanned.

However the impact of that particular bit of history has been considerably faded and perhaps almost forgotten in the course of time; it has not been lost of Brendan as he stood atop that same hill and considered recent events. He wondered suddenly if his ancestor had felt some of the same mix of turbulent emotions that had surged through him like a heat wave, like a fever.

But it had been a good and inspiring kind of a fever the kind that had enabled what most would a rag-tag band of human rebels to finally rise up and strike a blow against the Nietzchean overlords that had from the time the fall of the Commonwealth dominate what was left of the Earth.

Brendan heaved a sigh and reached up to scratch at the mop of wheat-colored blondish hair; an outlet for the emotions that he’d been experiencing.

He had known going in that he could not have accomplished a tenth of the plan without the help of his cousin, Seamus Zelanzy Harper and while a part of himself knew that even as kids on this war-torn planet they had argued, fought, and played a dangerous game of one-man-up; Brendan is glad that hi cousin has such friends in high places; they certainly did come in handy.

At the same time he’s still rather ambivalent about the man Harper used to refer as Captain Awesome, Dylan Hunt was, and is, he opined aloud to the crisp night air, “is a good man, but even perfect people make mistakes and I think his take on our revolution was one of them.”

At that moment Isaac was ascending that same hill and arrived just as Brendan finished contemplating the stars or his navel; Isaac wasn’t particular about whatever Brendan wished to contemplate; because he had known the man long enough not to interrupt whenever the ‘boss man’ was in one his far away moods.

Sensing an opening Isaac approached and tapped Brendan on the shoulder, then said: “Incoming message. It’s the Scrapper.” Figured you’d want to take it in your office, Sir.”

Brendan nodded in acknowledgement and withheld a wryly amused chuckle at the tacked-on at the last minute honorific. Isaac only got formal when he was drunk. They both turned around and descended the rough grade of the hillside and back toward the main settlement.  
In the back of his mind he wondered if the message from Harper meant that he had reconsidered and was coming back to visit, or if it was merely a quick check-in. Either way it would be good to see that face of his cousin and his seemingly perpetual off-center grin; a grin that Brendan had known ever since they were children meant it the mind behind that grin know a hell of a lot more than it would ever reveal. “Damn it, Harper! If I didn’t love ya, before the dust-up and the shit hit the fan; I certainly do now!  
***  
Shortly before the image on his screen resolved the static and the sensor data into the image of his cousin, Harper wondered if they’d be rehashing Brendan’s suggestion of a casual visit back that might very well become, well, not permanent. It was not that he did not want to come visit, or that they would think that now that he had made it to the Big Time, that he was too good for them now. It was that if Harper had learned anything about love, life, and everything in between it was that either time or the circumstances just did not conspire to make it possible to put down deep roots.

“Hey, Scrapper!” Harper greeted.

“Hey, Firecracker,” Brendan replied. “So., I heard you wanted to talk, you know me. I’m all ears.”

“More like all mouth,” replied Harper with a sheepish grin.

“Hey, now, you know that old saying about the pot calling the kettle black,” the other man returned with the good-natured ribbing that had marked their relationship from the very beginning. In the back of his mind he , too, had wondered if recent events might have altered that aspect of their relationship; altered it so much that there might not be any hope of getting it back.

But seeing Harper’s face, and his voice, and the way he carried himself, it was at that particular moment that without speaking, they both were reassured on that score.

“Why’d ya call?” Brendan asked.

“Maybe I wanted to hear your voice. Or maybe it’s because I was feeling nostalgic for old times.

In the back of his mind a fragment of an old poem came floating up from wherever he stored such things and recalled what he’d been thinking about on the summit of that hill, shortly before Harper’s call had come in. ‘”Something we were withholding made us weak. Until we found out that it was ourselves that had withheld from our land of living.” Such as we were, Such as we are…..” and then without realizing that he had uttered the last bit aloud said: “Such as we became.”

“Hey, Brendan, I didn’t catch that last bit, what were you saying about withholding?” Harper asked.

“Oh, nothing much, just an old poem, It came to mind shortly before your call came in,” replied  
Brendan. “Something that triggered in my mind as I was standing on the summit of the Hill and thought about all of that bloody history, and stuff.”

“Yeah, but I think I catch your drift, but you know me,” Harper replied and grinned, then added. “You were the one with the vision, and the plans, and the drive.”

“Yeah, but don’t sell yourself short, kid. We made a damn good team.”

“A damn good team! Speaking of which, I wanted to tell you, I placed first in the surfing competition on Denublos Drift.”

“You called me up to tell about a surfing competition?” Brenadan asked with mock-severity and expaseration coloring his voice. He thought that Harper, for all of his intelligence and dogged determination, and survival instincts still retained a bit of the child-like need to brag about his good fortune and accomplishments.

“Yeah, cause, oh hell, I guess I was desperate to hear your voice,” replied Harper.

“Well, congratulations.

“Any news from your end?” asked Harper.

“Nah, same old, some old, “ Brendan replied. “You know, you’d be the first person I’d contact it there were anything of import to relate. Hey, Harper. Promise me one thing before you go….”

“What?”

“Take care of yourself kid, and, about that Rom-doll, take care of her too, while you’re at it.”

“As if you’d have to ask! I promise.”


End file.
